


Lust&Vanity

by Sselene



Series: Incubus!Stiles [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: I don't need no canon compliant in my porn, Incubus!stiles, M/M, Not Canon Compliant, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, but it's not really stated
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-18
Updated: 2014-02-18
Packaged: 2018-01-13 00:19:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1205848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sselene/pseuds/Sselene
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jackson is not sure how he let himself be convinced to bring Stiles back home after the party, but he'll find out that it's a good thing he did.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lust&Vanity

Jackson doesn’t know he got roped in taking Stilinski’s home after the ‘last day of summer’ party, nor does he know how McCall let himself be convinced of letting his ‘brother’ go with him. It’s not really a secret that there’s little love between them. Jackson could leave him for dead on the street and he wouldn’t feel guilty, not even a little bit. And the others couldn’t be surprised, because, hey, it’s Stilinski.

On the bright side, he seems to be too tired to speak as he usually does.

“You know,” Stilinski says, because he probably likes to do exactly the opposite of what the others wants from him. “You’re very handsome.”

Jackson jerks his head to look at Stiles, relaxed against the door, with a lazy smile on his lips and hooded eyes, almost debauched. Stilinski keeps his glare and then laughs, lower than usual, with a certain roughness in his voice.

“You should watch the street, not me.”

Jackson looks at the street, but they’re the only ones driving around, so it’s not such a big distraction.

“I don’t even understand why you were looking at me that way,” Stiles keeps saying. “I’m sure you know you’re handsome, I don’t think I’m the first one to tell you that.”

“Of course I know,” Jackson says pretending annoyance. “I didn’t know you were into dudes.”

“I’ve thought about it, sometimes. You know, while jerking off…”

He cannot explain, not even to himself, why his throat is suddenly so dry after hearing Stilinski utter those words, but he surely doesn’t want the other to notice it, so he swallows twice, before speaking to change topic.

“About dudes?” He asks, because his mind is apparently a traitor.

“About you,” Stiles says and on a totally unrelated note Jackson almost swerves.

“Me?” He repeats incredulous, with a voice a tad more breathy than what he’d like. He looks again at Stiles, who’s still smiling, even though it seems a little more forced, a little more unsure.

“Yeah,” he admits. “I just… I just think about what would it feel… to have you over me, inside me,” he explains, moving his head to watch the road in front of them, but then looking at him again, a blush on his cheeks. “What would it feel to have your cock in my mouth.”

Jackson gulps and stops the car, because he’s quite sure he shouldn’t drive in the conditions he is in. Not that he’d admit it, not even to himself.

“I didn’t know you knew how to do blowjobs Stilinski,” he says with a cocky grin, pretending not to notice the hoarseness in his voice.

“I don’t,” Stiles admits, nipping at his bottom lip. “I just thought you could… you know… teach me.”

“I’ve never done a blowjob and I’m sure I don’t want to start now.”

“I know, I know, I didn’t mean…” Stiles starts saying, but then he sighs. He passes his hands through his hair, and in doing so he looks even more debauched. It’s strange, because, really, Stiles has always been spastic and idiotic and not really ravishing at all. “I meant that maybe I could… you know… try… and you could tell me… if I’m doing something good. Or not. Or whatever.”

Jackson wants to tell him no, really. He wants to tell him to fuck off, because it’s probably some kind of sick joke, or maybe Stilinski is drunk, or maybe is just crazy. And Jackson isn’t interested in having sex, or blowjobs, with him, even though the idea tempts him, even though Stiles looks so hopeful and willing is almost too much.

So he opens his mouth to say a polite but stern ‘no’, and what escapes is: “Okay.” He doesn’t have time to change idea, though, because Stilinski’s lips are suddenly on his, and his tongue is in his mouth in a way that should feel almost awful, but doesn’t. Stilinski is surely not an expert in the field, but he must have some kind of gift, because he knows exactly what to do and how to move.

“I didn’t say you could kiss me,” he says when the human takes a breath, but he just laughs.

“So I can’t do it again?” He asks, almost breathing the words against his lips. A hand finds his way between his leg, pressing just right against his half-hard cock, and whatever Jackson wants to reply vanishes from his mind.

“Yeah, okay, whatever,” he sighs, closing his eyes, and Stiles’s kissing him again, deeper and filthier, the palm of his hand moving against his hardening erection.  
“It’s okay if…” Stiles starts to say, breathing hard, but then stops to kiss him again. “It’s okay if I start? I just really want to suck you off.”

Jackson grits his teeth because he will not moan just hearing Stilinski’s words.

“Yeah, yeah,” he answers. “Fuck, yeah, do it.”

Stiles kisses him again, hard, hands fumbling on his belt and opening his trouser in a blur of movements. It’s just when Jackson’s cock is free that he finally looks, and then his breath hitches.

“Fuck, Jackson…” his voice is almost awed while he’s looking and touching like he’s in front of a work of art and not just a penis and damn if it doesn’t do things to Jackson. “Fuck.”

“It’s just a fucking dick, Stilinski, I’m sure you’ve seen at least once in your life.” He tries to sound annoyed, but he sounds more whining.

“I’ve seen a lot of porn in my life and so I’ve seen a lot of dicks,” Stiles corrects him with a smile, not big as usual, but smaller, more intimate, in a way. “I’ve just… I’ve just never seen such a beautiful dick as yours.”

Jackson has to swallow before he can speak, because he is quite sure his voice would be too hoarse to be understandable.

“Are you waxing poetry about my dick instead of sucking it, Stilinski?”

Stiles laughs a throaty laugh and then he lick his lips, his gaze still fixed on Jackson’s cock.

“Right,” he says, liking his lips again.

“Mind the teeth,” Jackson says before Stilinski can go down on him, and the boy smirks at him.

“Are you sure I should? I think you won’t mind a little bit of teeth.”

Jackson gulps thinking about the way Lydia can make him come just by grazing her teeth on the underside of his cock, but then shakes his head.

“Try to use your teeth and I’ll end you, Stilinski,” he threatens. Stiles laughs, puffs of breath against his cock that make him shiver, but nods nonetheless.

“Okay,” he confirms.

And after that there’s no way they’re still talking, because Stiles just swallows him whole in a single movement and Jackson buckles up at feeling the other’s throat closing around his head and his tongue pressing against the underside.

“Fuck, Stilinski,” he spits through gritted teeth. “I thought it was your first time.”

Stiles releases him with an obscene pop and smiles at him, looking him from below, a little bit of spit glistening his lip.

“It is,” he confirms. “But I’ve put a lot of things in my mouth.”

Jackson groans, banging his head against the headrest.

“You’re going to kill me…”

“I really hope not,” Stiles replies innocently.

He brings again his attention to the task at hand, but this time he doesn’t just go for it. For some moment, he just breaths against the spit-slicked head, smiling at Jackson’s shivers, and then starts to lick it, lapping the slit, while his hand moves up and down his whole length. Jackson tries to keep his voice low and his breath even, but when Stilinski’s mouth closes around his head and he starts sucking, a gasp escapes his lips; and when the boy goes down on him to take him fully again, he has to close his eyes just not to come for the show that are Stiles Stilinski’s stretched lips.

“Fuck,” Jackson groans, gripping tight the headrest because he doesn’t know how to put his hands. He’s not sure he’s strong enough not to just grab Stilinski and fuck his mouth.

Stiles bobs on him almost lazily, sucking and licking through the movements. When he lets him go to breath is with another filthy sound.

“We could do it, later,” he says and Jackson has to really stop and think to understand what the fuck Stilinski’s saying, but then realization hits him, and he groans again, gripping the headrest tighter. “And, you know,” Stiles keeps on saying, liking his lips. “You can fuck my mouth if you want. You’ve already seen I can take you.”

Jackson inhales deeps and closes his eyes, just gives himself a moment. He should say no, because Stilinski probably isn’t in his right mind, maybe he’s drunk, or whatever, but he surely doesn’t want Jackson to fuck his mouth while he’s doing his first blowjob. But then he thinks about doing it, about taking him and just fucking him, making him gag around his cock. And he really isn’t strong enough.

“Yeah,” it’s all he can force himself to say.

Stiles opens his mouth expectantly when he grabs his hairs, so he doesn’t really wait before shoving his cock in it, deep and hard. Stiles’s throat spasms around the head, but the boy moans, too, a blissful expression on his face. Jackson starts moving, not at all easy as he thought he wanted to be at least at the begin, and he can’t control his voice anymore, not feeling the way Stiles’s throat’s muscles work to accommodate his girth.

Jackson would like to say that he comes in a totally respectable time – and he probably will – but the truth is that he reaches the orgasm really too soon. He tries to shove Stiles off of him, not trusting his voice to warn him about the climax, but the other slaps his hand away and starts sucking hard. When he comes, with a half-scream that escapes even his gritted teeth, Stiles just swallows and keeps on swallowing. He doesn’t let him go until he has sucked off even the last drop, and then it’s another wet pop that accompanies his movement.

Stiles sits again on his seat, out of breath and with a red face, but also smiling like he’s just had his greatest wish come true.

“Well, that was quite awesome, wasn’t it?” He asks, his voice rough, used.

It’s like this because he sucked me off, Jackson thinks, and he almost wants to come again.

“Yeah,” he just says, tucking himself in again.

He’s almost starting the car again when a thought occurs to him.

“What about you?” He asks, looking at Stiles and then between his legs.

“Oh, I’m… I’m good,” Stiles splutters, bringing his hoodie lower to cover himself. “I just… I’m good.” He’s bright red and clearly embarrassed and it’s not so hard to imagine what happened.

Jackson doesn’t find hot that Stiles came just because he was sucking him off. Really.


End file.
